Black Scales on Gold Skin
by Emerald Ryuu Feather
Summary: When faced with a stoic and silent High Elf that is rumored to be mute, yet be the Dragonborn, what's a Jarl to do? Ulfric soon finds that Ashma is not all he appears to be. While hell is rained on Helgen a new story begins, with a ecsaped slave at its center. How will Skyrim survive? Yaio! Ulfric with Dovahkiin and several others. Full summery inside!
1. Fire, A Lot Of Fire

A/N: I'm normally one to play as a Cat, so when I decided I'd mix it up a little and play as a High Elf a story idea came and bit me in the butt. I decided I might as well commit it to paper… or whatever you want to call word doc. and well here it is. I hope you like my elf, I think he looks cool, but well that's me for you… Oh forgive my name misspellings just tell me how to correctly spell it and I'll fix it when I get the chance.

Summary: When faced with a stoic and silent High Elf that is rumored to be mute, yet be the Dragonborn, what's a Jarl to do? Ulfric soon finds that Ashma is not all he appears to be. The Dragonborn must defeat more than just a giant black dragon to keep Tamriel safe. Shadows of the past are rising in the west, and it will take Ashma's full strength to beat them. However, how strong can one High Elf be?

Warnings: This is man on man, possibly a three some I have no idea yet. I also plan on going through some key quests so if you haven't finished the main quest line and the war quest line: **SPOILER ALERT**!

Disclaimer: If I owned Skyrim Ulfric would have been a romance option only for male characters so you know I've never ever had even the tiniest share on Skyrim…. _**I OWN NOTHING**_.

Note: _'thought'_ "Talk" 'Ashma's writing'

Without further a due, I present; _'Black Scales On Gold Skin'_!

Title: Black Scales on Gold Skin

Chapter One: Fire, A Lot of Fire

(Helgen)

I slowly opened my eyes, the painful throb ringing in my head blurring what I saw for a few moments. When my vision cleared my gut plummeted to the floor. I was in a wagon, in front of me was a man dressed in a Stromcloak uniform, glancing to the left I saw the man who'd tried to steal my horse and someone who looked vaguely familiar, wearing an outfit similar to the first's, sitting next to me.

The thief was rugged and not all that attractive, but this blond man next to me, he was another matter entirely…

Looking around a bit more I noticed there would be no way to get out of the wagon alive, a guard on horseback followed behind our wagon. In front of my wagon was another filled with more Stormcloaks. I found myself thinking _'Great, I got labeled a rebel and now I'm going to die because the Empire is just that dumb.' _Just then the man sitting across from me looked up and finally noticed I was awake.

"Finally awake then? You were trying to cross the border, right? Same as us, and that Horse Thief over there, walked right into that ambush. You put up a fight, knocked out five of these bustards before they got you." The man seemed genuinely impressed_. 'If knocking out a few Imperials impresses him he should see me use my magic…' _I mused in my mind and then the driver grunted at us, like an animal.

"Be quite back there!" He huffed I glared wanting to sneer but restraining the urge. If I let them see my teeth I'd be dead before the wagon stopped moving. I clench my jaw and flip him a rude gesture, noticing a set of chuckles from the Stormcloaks, although one was muffled due to his gag.

"What's your name?" I looked back at the man across from me, I felt a sadness wash through me, I could not answer. I shook my head bringing my bound hands to my throat. Hopefully he understood I was claiming to be mute. Understanding lit up in the man's eyes, he nodded and looked over to the thief.

"Where you from Horse Thief?" I thought of my family, or at least the few fuzzy memories I had and felt my chest ache. The Horse Thief and the man exchanged a few words and I picked up on a chilling fact.

"Watch your tongue, that's Ulfric Stormcloak, the true High King!" When I heard that I suddenly knew I'd die, the Imperials would kill me because I was a 'rebel Stormcloak'. I closed my eyes and sent a prayer to the Divines I'd be shown mercy in the next life. I hear gates open and open my eyes with the noise, almost gasping as I see the walls and begin to panic on the inside. _'Not right! I shouldn't be here, not in a village or whatever this is he'll find me!'_

"Look at him, General Tullius the Military Governor and the Thalmor are with him, damn elves. I bet **They **had something to do with this." The man with golden hair and pale blue eyes spat. I flinch at the harsh words, and wonder if Skyrim is as bad as I'd heard it to be. _'But he has his reasons the Thalmor are cruel..."_ I remind myself. I zone out as the cart moves on, I see a priest, a headsman and a chopping block, all in the open.

'_Public execution!? What are these people thinking? Oh Divines kill me now so I don't have to face this humiliation!' _I scream in my mind going numb, but when the wagon stops I stand with the others.

"Let's not keep the Gods waiting for us." The man behind me states before he rises, and I find myself agreeing with him. I close my eyes and take my last deep breathe as a free Elf, when I jump down I know I am now a slave to the Empire's murder.

They call forward everyone, the horse thief being a fool runs and gets an arrow to the back for his efforts. I don't even blink already well acquainted with death. Then they call me up, but my name is not on the list, I'd refused to give it to them. The Imperial soldier holding the list requests my name and I give him a silent glare, I would hold the appearance of a mute like I had been. Avoiding death until it caught me in its bittersweet embrace.

The Captain gets pissed with my refusal to answer and stalks forward bringing her hand to her blade. If the damn binds on my hands weren't enchanted to cancel magic I would have killed her then and there. The man, who'd asked my name, Ralof, spoke up from the group of rebels and I almost groaned but swallowed the sound. I must keep my mute façade.

"He can't speak, he's mute." I blink at him; I could hear the aggravation a deep breath and nod when the bitch asks me if Ralof had said the truth.

"Captain." The list Soldier piped up only to get cut off. I was beginning to hate the Empire more than I already did, and that was saying something. All my life I'd hated the Empire, but now my anger had become a silent seething rage.

"He goes to the block." She states walking off. The Soldier sighs but nods in resignation, I want to spit at him for being a coward. He looks up with a grim look plastered on his face.

"We'll make sure your remains are returned to the Summerset Isles." I roll my bright yellow eyes, not caring where my body went, I'd be dead not that anyone would really care. I walked up to the rebel group, standing one person away from Ralof. I watch as a man interrupts the priest as she practically rubs salt in their wounded pride and he becomes the first to be beheaded.

'_You could have at least said The Nine, stupid woman, these men and woman are Stormcloaks, show some respect for your enemy.' _I spit in my mind I hear Ralof say something about the dead man's bravery then it's my turn for the block. A strange roar echoes and sets everyone on edge, I'm beginning to feel fear in the back of my mind but push it away as I walk forward, my face expressionless. _'I won't give these bastards the satisfaction of knowing my fear.' _

As I walk forward out of the corner of my eyes I see Ulfric watching me. A small shiver runs down my spine when I feel the gaze bore into my back. I see him bow his head slightly and feel surprised, if that bow was meant for me then he was a far better man then I'd originally thought. To show respect to your enemy is to show honor far beyond what most possessed.

I kneel then lay my head down on the block before the Captain can kick me, I mentally sigh when I realize my raven black hair was long enough it would get cut. Another roar and with it a form as black as the void sails from behind the mountains to the right on tattered wings that look like they are made of ebony. It lands on the tower in front of us and a wave of utter terror washes over me as I realize the black form that has glowing blood red eyes is a dragon like the legends of old.

It lets out a ground shaking roar to the sky which darkens and begins raining down fireballs. I'm frozen as if I have Rockjoint. I stare wide eyed at the giant beast my neck still touching the blood soaked block when I snap out of it and begin to get up to run.

The black dragon looks down as I start to rise, for a moment I think I see amusement and cruel curiosity flash in its glowing crimson eyes then it shrieks something in its own tongue that throws me down. My head slams into the chopping block and I lay on the ground dazed for less than a half minute before I'm jerked up to my knees, my vision is so blurred I can't see straight and clamp my eyes shut. I fear I might have a concussion.

"Come on! To that tower, stay low follow me." I flinch away from the shout, but my eyes fly open when I recognize the voice, Ralof. I crouch low, following the blue smudge in the blur of reddish brown. My vision slowly clears as the door slams shut behind me, I collapse by the wall trying to simply will my head to stop pounding, I grit my teeth and press my forehead into my knees.

"That was a Dragon, just like the legends!" Ralof gasped standing but leaning into the wall next to me the adrenaline rush he was probably having taking the breath from him. I blink and look up when my head stops spinning and my sight is better.

"Legends don't burn down villages." I look at the man who spoke, that voice sending shivers through me, and realize it was Ulfric talking. I look at him closely, taking in the man's looks. He has the stereotypical Nord appeal, almost. His hair was light blond, his eyes the clear blue of the skies, and his skin pale, body carved like a warrior. All of the man added up to an appealing picture.

I thought of myself for a moment, my light bronze-gold colored skin, bright yellow eyes, and long raven black hair my body looked like that of a thief. I was tall and lithe, graceful and completely silent on my feet. With the two black tattoos that circled my eyes then framed my face and almost met under my jugular I looked the part of a shadow walker. I knew what I was and I wished the man who made me as I am would boil in the liquid fire of Red Mountain.

"We need to move now!" Ulfric shouts as the ground shakes with another roar from the Dragon. I stand slowly, trying to keep the ground from pitching and spinning. Ralof shouts for me to follow him as he bounds up the stairs, I run after him, catching up and meeting him stride for stride. I suddenly stopped my bound hands shoot out and I grab Ralof before he can move to help another rebel trying to clear the stairs. I don't know why but instinct told me to stay where I was, and I stopped Ralof from going farther until I knew what was spooking me.

As if in answer to my halt the tower shakes and a giant black head bursts through the wall and spews fire at the poor man by the debris. I swear the dragon's eyes met mine as its giant head pulled back and I saw malice and arrogance shine in the glowing red orbs. I felt a dizzying fear like none before as his eyes blaze into mine. It felt like it took the dragon a decade to pull his head back, the fear blotted out the chaotic noise swirling around me until a strong beat of the massive black wings lifted the dragon and carried it on its bloody rampage. I then realized it wasn't a concussion I was suffering it was pure terror.

When the shadow over the hole in the wall leaves all the noise finally hits me, the once muffled chaos outside seems to crash into my ears like a stampede of wild stallions. I gasp and collapse to the ground, pressing my forehead into my hands, the pounding in my head returning tenfold. I blink as Ralof pulls me up off the floor, and in a surprisingly gentle voice told me what I needed to do.

"Hey, see the roof of the Inn over here?" He gestures to a hole in a roof close to the gaping hole in the tower wall I nod. "Jump over there, we'll catch up with you later go." He nudges me closer to the ledge and the smoking inferno that was the village below. I swallow hard before taking a few steps back then running forward and leaping from the ledge, I land and roll across the floor of the Inn, the smoke is so thick I start coughing immediately.

I get myself under control and stand running to the other side of the room and jumping down, and run out of the building to hide behind another. Three people run up to hide next to me as a jet of white hot fire scorches the road, then I see the black dragon again, my gut twists in dread. Something was telling me this wasn't the first attack, and it wouldn't be the last.

"Still alive prisoner keep close if you want to stay that way." I resist the urge to sneer at the damn list soldier from earlier. _'Why couldn't you have been eaten by now?' _I think glaring at the man as I follow him, when I see the gates and the dead scattered there and the soldiers standing their ground I feel my gut twist. I feel a respect bloom in my chest, these men fought to protect each other against a foe that would kill them. They were naïve, but they were brave.

I look and see the court yard and run to it forgetting the soldier I'd been following, I hope to see Ralof or Ulfric, they'd saved my life I needed to repay them. When I see Ralof run up I stand close to him as the list soldier runs up, calling Ralof a traitor. They take their opposite roads and with out hesitation I follow Ralof into the keep.

I run in after the blond the door shutting with a loud bang behind us. I stop and stare at the dead rebel on the floor near the back wall, mentally sending a prayer to the divines. I hear Ralof speak of meeting the man in Sovngarde and I felt a pang of sympathy. I keep a distance staying silent with my head bowed in respect.

"Well, I guess we're the only ones to make it. Come here and let me see if I can get those binds off you." I hear the small twinge of sadness in his soft voice. I walk up to him, hesitant to move closer to the mourning man; I could see the pain in his eyes. Pained men could do painful things.

He sighed and moved over to me, grabbed my wrist and brought out a dagger. I saw the blade and memories flashed in my eyes and I jerked away. My eyes must have cued him in on my panic attack because he dropped the dagger and grabbed my upper arms holding me in place.

"Hey now, I'm not here to hurt you, all I'm going to do is remove those binds. Alright?" He states this calmly, I'm shaking and blink and swallow the pain while I nod. It's gotten easier to keep quite over the years, I realize how long it's been and feel a wave a longing wash over me. I want to speak, but I can't it would be a death sentence. So I nod and keep still as he picks up his dagger and cuts my binds.

I roll my wrists and feel the numbness begin to leave my hands I flex my fingers and concentrate on fire. My eyes are closed as I imagine the flames dancing within the palm of my hands. I hear a gasp and open my eyes. Ralof's eyes are blown wide as he looks at the small dancing flames in my open palms. He blinks and suddenly looks reproachful, and putts a little distance between us.

I feel a pang in my chest but make my face goes blank. I close my hands extinguishing the flames wisps of smoke slipping up from between my fingers. I look away from him glaring at the floor wanting to ask him his issue. But then I realize, the Thalmor are mages or mostly so, and magic must seem strange to those not gifted with it. I refuse to look at Ralof glaring at the floor and shaking my head. I turn and start walking toward the door, _'If he thinks mages are evil incarnate fuck him. I'll take my chances with the giant flying black lizard outside.' _

"Wait, look I'm not used to magic, it's strange to me. I meant no offense!" Ralof calls he runs up and grabs my arm, I freeze. I blink and turn my head to him letting the hurt flash in my eyes. It hurt to think that he changed his opinion of me just because my magic abilities, why judge someone because of that? He looks uncertain, but he no longer seems so judgmental.

I look at him and shake my head in frustration, wanting to speak, he suddenly looks confused. My hand touches my throat taping it gently shaking my head, I look around seeing a piece of coal I grab it and write on the wall: 'I don't like that you'd judge me for who I am, _What I am._ I'm a mage so what? I can fight with a sword just as well as you. I'm not with the Thalmor just because I'm a High Elf.'

When I'm done writing the message I take a step back and look at Ralof then point at the wall. He looks at the neatly scrawled script and flinches. He looks at me embarrassment shining in his gaze. He rubs the back of his neck looking at the ground.

"Look, I'm a Nord and a warrior, I'm not used to magic and I've been raised to be weary of it. I do apologies for the way I came across. I didn't mean to seem so…" He trails off unsure of what to say next, I write it on the wall: 'Raciest?' He nods then gestures toward the dead man.

"You should take his armor and axe he won't be needing them now." Ralof turned away from me. When he did I threw the charcoal as hard as I could at the far wall, so frustrated with the situation. I looked at the little splat the charcoal had made upon its shattering impact as I walked over to the dead man, and changed from the rags I'd been wearing to the Stormcloak uniform.

I secured the damn pants after a struggle. Since I was smaller then the one they were meant for it took me a bit to fasten the damn things. I pulled at the chainmail, wanting to throw it away; instead I took a deep breath and slipped it on, not liking the cold metal at all. I shiver and pull on the last piece, the blue sash. I pick up the axe and twirl it.

"You weren't kidding when you said you knew how to handle a weapon." Ralof states I drop the axe and twirl around, instinct kicking in. He frowns and looks at me strangely for a moment. I look to the side and jump grabbing the axe pointing toward the wooden gate and hide behind the wall, hearing Ralof mutter about damn Imperials as he to crouches low and hides. In my off hand I summon my flames again.

When the gate opens Ralof jumps up and whirls around the corner slashing at the surprised soldier. I leap up spin and hurl my flames at the female commander. I feel satisfaction roll through me when she lights like a torch. I move quickly, I slash across her legs when she collapses I spin and bring the ax down in a neat arch, and her head flies.

I look down and shake my head, I quickly search her corpse, finding a key I slip it into the pouch attached to my borrowed armor. Walking into the other rooms behind them I search for useful items, I find a few Septems but that's all. I walk back to the other room and try the key on the locked gate.

Ralof looks a bit on edge and I can sense anxiety rolling off him, I look at him in concern, trying to figure the strange man out. Well strange to me, he was probably considered normal, or as normal as most people could get.

As we journey through we encounter a torturer chamber. I freeze up in the doorway Ralof jumping into the fight going on between the two Imperial tortures and the two Stromcloaks. I'm frozen in utter terror as memories scream inside my head, but a single voice breaks thorough my shock and memory induced paralysis.

"Watch out!" Ralof shouts, I blink my eyes clearing in time to see blue shining bolts flashing toward me. I suck in a breath the image of a blue glowing shield surrounding me pops into my head and I focus on it. Where it doesn't stop all of it, most of the magic is absorbed by the blue field around me. I feel the pain run through my hands that are outstretched. I clench my jaw and pull down the shield I pull the magic he'd flung at me from the falling shield and hurl it back at the torturer

I collapsed and pressed my burning hands to the cold stone floor. I hear two soldiers talking with Ralof, I hear them mutter about my eyes and ears that give away my High Elf lineage. I hear Ralof snap a biting remark toward them and he walks over to me. He kneels down as I draw in on myself curling into the wall and turning my back to the torture chamber.

"Hey, you alright?" He asks gently kneeling next to me and reaching out to my shaking hands. I blink at the ground a few times getting myself under control, but when his hand touches my bear wrist I jerk away, I'm still too far in the past not to be fearful. He frowns, again. He retracts his hands away from me slowly; he holds them palm out a sign of peace.

I can finally feel that I'm shaking and realize I must look utterly pathetic. I look at him then look to the ground turning my head to the wall, and leaning further against the cool stone. I get my breathing regulated and stand, Ralof stands with me he gives me a concerned look. I shift uncomfortably on my feet raising my hands as a gold glow swirls around them, healing the red blistered skin.

"Ye can heal?" Came a gruff voice I turn and glare at the Stormcloak trooper, he's a gruff looking male. The female is just as scruffy looking and for a moment I want to sneer and ask if either knew what bathing was. I hold in the remark and sneer and keep my expression blank as I nod. He sneers at me in response.

"Are ye too good te speak te us mere Stormcloaks?" He huffs still sneering; I glare and fist my hands at my sides resisting the urge to hit the man. I shake my head as I stalk into the room past them grab the lock picks and begin unlocking all the cages. I grab some mage robes a book and some more coins. I look back at them and blink in surprise; the gruff man is pinned to the wall by Ralof, who seems to be giving the other Stormcloak a word or two about respect.

"We haven't seen Ulfric, but we need to go." I'm surprised the woman's voice sounds like a beautiful spring shower dancing on the rivers and the meadows. I look at Ralof waking over and tapping his shoulder, he snaps his head in my direction and I jump back, he blinks and his anger softens. I point toward the woman.

"We need to go, come on." The woman turns and begins heading down a tunnel, Ralof gives the man a warning glare and lets him go. I walk off behind the woman I notice Ralof is right behind me, his head turned slightly back, as if watching the other Stormcloak.

I walk faster and stop the woman, I cock my head to the side and turn it a little, and then I crouch down sneak forward and peak around the corner into the cavern. Sure enough my ears told me true, there were Imperials in the next area. I slink back to the other's who are waiting where I'd stopped them.

"Imperials?" Ralof whispers, I nod, "How many?" He whispers drawing his two axes. I fidget and holding up four fingers as I draw out my own axe, but the gruff man sneers.

"Put that away elf, ye don' know ta use it. Let us 'andle the Imperials you sit back and fling magic." He snickers and I stand to my full height, just about eye level to him, if I grew a few inches. I feel the magic in my blood boil and I know I have red flames dancing between my fingers. I whip around run into the cavern hurling a fire ball at the nearest Imperial and with a twirl slash him across the abdomen.

I don't stop running I duck and weave trying to avoid the arrows, I get close and spot the oil on the ground, with a quite snicker I fling a small jet of flame on the oil, but that's all it needs. With a bag the oil ignites and the two archers burn. I turn, my bright eyes flashing, only to see the forth finished by Ralof and the woman. I glance at the other man, he's glaring at me from the entry way.

"Does he look like he can't handle a weapon now? He killed three, we barley got done with one and he killed _three._" Ralof sounded smug, but I felt a tad bit drained, I didn't like this armor, I wasn't used to it. I liked the lighter leathers and cloth I wore all the time. I looked away scavenging the Imperials, I find a few more coins a few good daggers and a good bow as well as a good number of iron arrows.

I hoist the bow and the now almost full quiver over my shoulder and begin to walk further not caring the two other's are staying behind leaving me alone with Ralof. At least he respected me. The woman nodded as I walked past I nod back, then as we cross the bridge I just pulled down with the leaver. Debris fall and cave in the exit to the cavern I feel a bit of worry but hop into the gap and the tunnel I see.

I come out and Ralof is running up with this look of worry written over his face as he catches sight of me foraging from the skeleton I found he actually laughs. I look over confused and cock my head to the side, but I see a bear getting up and I load my bow. I step in front of him and fire three arrows, quick succession one after the other at the charging fur ball.

The beast collapses about three feet away I relax and straighten from the crouch, noticing Ralof was stunned behind me. I fidget and begin skinning the bear taking her pelt and the meat I could get. I also grab two of the three arrows I fired, one having broken in the bear's eye socket.

"Wow, you know how to defend yourself…" Ralof murmurs in wonder shaking himself he looks back the way we came. For a moment I think he wants to stay but he surprises me again, "Well, everyone else will just need to find another way out."

My lips twitch up in a smile, I'd gotten worried he might try to clear the rubble, but with out the right people or tools it would have been suicide. I stand nod and we begin walking again, there's a light and I can feel Ralof's excitement as he practically glows with it.

"There's a light, come on, it has to be the way out!" Ralof moves ahead I smile for the first time in what seems like forever as I walk out behind him. We step into the light and for a moment it's so bright I have to squint or blind myself. I blink the slight discomfort away when that blood chilling roar thunders overhead, images of a giant black face with glowing red eyes flashes in my mind, his gapping maw spewing fire.

I don't wait for Ralof's warning I jump forward and crouch behind the large boulder. I see the black shape swoop through the late evening air as if on wings of a bird he flies away from the trailing smoke. I feel my gut twist with fear at the very sight of him. As the jagged black hole of the dragon fades into the horizon we stand.

"My sister runs the mill in Riverwood, just up the road from here. It would probably be best if we split up..." Ralof seems reluctant to move away or even say the words split up. I cock my head to the side and shake it in a no and walk up to stand next to him, waiting. I see him smile then we're heading down the road.

I listen to him explain certain aspects of the land, but the standing stones catch my eye as we stop next to them, he explains there are thirteen, these are the guardians. I walk up to the mage stone and run a hand over the surface of the mage's image. I feel a power resonate out of the stone and see a thin thread of light shine in the shape of the mages consolation. I gasp but my hand stays there.

I can't help the fact I'm openly gapping at the stone, it just glowed for Arkay's sake! I snap my jaw shut with an audible click and look back at Ralof. Fear spiking in my gut, but luckily he doesn't seem to have noticed anything. He's looking at the stone with a bemused smile on his face.

"The mage, eh? Well it's not my place to judge." He states as he walks up to stand behind me. I turn and watch as he places a hand on the warrior stone, grinning when a thin thread of light forms the constellation of the warrior across the rock's surface. It was like watching what my stone had done, but the mage was replaced by the warrior.

I take in a quick breath of surprise and step closer basking in the power I feel ripple out from the stone, but it's different from the mage stone. The power I feel is not the soft flowing brush from magic, but a more primal power that washes you in rough waves of energy. I blink as he turns to me with a grin plastered to his face. It takes me a moment to gather my wits, it was mind blowing, I'd heard of things like this but it was so strange to feel it.

"Come on let's go it's starting to get dark and Riverwood is just a little further up the road." His voice almost sounds like that of an ecstatic child much different than the earlier tone he'd taken on when talking about the ruins on the nearby mountain, Bleakfalls Barrow he'd called them. He'd shuddered and quickly moved on.

I draw my bow as I hear a howl, my instincts kicking in I begin to crouch when a weight slams into my back and throws me face first into the dirt. I hear Ralof cry out in shock and pain and I roll barley avoiding snapping jaws. I grab at the wolf's muzzle, managing to wrap a hand around it; I wrap my legs around the beast's body and snap its neck.

I grab my bow and the arrow I'd dropped and take aim at the wolf that had latched onto Ralof's arm. I let the arrow fly, with a thud it lands in the black furred side. The wolf howls letting go of Ralof who takes his axe and swings down onto its neck. He pants heavily, his bleeding arm hangs loosely by his side. I get up from my knees, stumbling over to take a look at the bleeding appendage.

I blink hard as my vision refuses to focus for a moment; I reach out and gently touch the wound trying to figure out how damaged it is. When he flinches and lets out a strangled groan I jump and flinch away.

"Hey, sorry look it over but it hurt's like the void, I'm not going to hurt you." He states this and I realize he's said that multiple times since I'd first met him, and wonder if he knew a bit of my past. I mentally kick myself. _'No he wouldn't know. Araky knows no one does...'_ I ridicule myself shaking my head I frown as I look over the arm, holding it gingerly, trying to cause the least amount of pain possible. Luckily the bite only tore open his skin and didn't break any vitals in his arm or the bones. I let my hands glow with a gold light I close my eyes and concentrate reciting the incantation in my mind.

I feel a hand on my face and my eyes snap open, Ralof looks worried and I realize it's his hand on my face. I take a step back ending the healing spell the gold glow disappears from my hands. I feel the dizziness first then I realize I feel light headed and there's a sick feeling in my stomach.

"Hey you alright, I'm no healer, but you look pale." Ralof moved closer closing the distance I'd just established. I shake my head and try to clear my thoughts. Then I double over as a wave of nausea hits me hard. I move away and finally let my stomach empty on the side of the road.

I try to breathe between the heaves, but the stench makes it worse, I hate the fact I didn't notice sooner, I'd over exhausted my magic supply. I began breathing again and blinked hard. Ralof had knelt next to me and had pulled my hair back and was rubbing circles into my back. I looked over to him with a miserable look in my eyes. I nod to him in a way of thanks and he grins.

"No problem. Hey when we get to Gurder's, I'll get you some parchment and charcoal and you can write what happened, Kay?" He half grins but I blink and nod shakily, I reach into my pack and grab a mana potion and drink it thankful for the overpowering tang of it. I stand with Ralof's help and then walk with him the rest of the way to Riverwood after we skin the wolves and recollect my arrows.

When we get there Ralof calls his sister and they discuss things, I'm sitting on the ground behind Gurder and her husband leaning against the giant tree hoping not to be seen. I try to keep my eyes open but I can't and my eyes slip closed and I fall asleep.

I don't hear Ralof's praise; I don't hear him defend me when Gurder's husband gets worried about my magic. I also didn't hear him say something that would have surprised me. I'd curled up in my sleep and was oblivious to his words. But I think I did hear him, at least I felt his words.

"I would be dead if not for him. He saved my life, several times. I don't think I'd have made it if he decided not to come with me. I owe him a life debt." Ralof stated this with conviction; he looked his sister and her husband in the eye showing them exactly how serious he was. Gurder smiled she turned to me and chuckled then looked back to Ralof.

"So what's your sleeping friend's name?" She asked with a smile in her genital voice Ralof suddenly looked embarrassed.

"I haven't found out yet…" Ralof was rubbing the back of his neck in embarrassment as Gurder and her husband started laughing, that woke me up I blinked sleepily at them for a moment confused then remembering what had happened and felling a tad bit sick.

"He's mute, and when I had the opportunity I kind of made an ass of myself." Ralof muttered looking much younger. I smile at the other man; I make a motion that I hope looks like writing he looks at the two and gestures to me. They turn and I suddenly feel uncomfortable.

"How about we go some where quite, with some parchment and charcoal so he can put some input into the conversation?" Ralof asks I nod as the others turn to me eager to be able to communicate in some way. I want to be called by my name; I want to be able to speak to them. I tense when I see mistrust flash across Gurder's husband's face. I repress the frustrated noise that wants to escape me as I stand, and edge around to stand behind Ralof a few paces.

"Any friend of Ralof's is a friend of mine." Gurder states warmly, a smile on her lips, she hands me a small bag and I must look confused because she chuckles.

"It's a few supplies for saving my useless brother here. Take them, you'll need them, and you've earned them. Thank you." Her voice was warm and truthful I gingerly accepted the small pouch, tying it to the belt on my armor. I bowed to her, my fist resting over my heart. I heard her chuckle and see her return the bow. I blink in astonishment, _'I have a feeling Ralof and the people who know him will continue to astound me…' _

I chastise myself for the thought, I'd repay my debt to Ralof and maybe find a way to Thank Ulfric then I'd move on. I'd do what I always did because if I stopped, if he found me. I repress a shudder of fear that wants to run through me. Ralof glances as me from over his shoulder worry shining in his gaze in return I give him a small grin, hiding the ever present fear that has haunted me for almost a month now.

"Hey follow me." Ralof called as he stood and walked away after his sister, reluctantly I followed. We came to a small cottage I slow down and hesitate, not wanting to be rude. I have little idea on Nord custom, I know a little but not enough to be sure on how to carry my self without offending. Gurder looks back and sees my hesitation, she chuckles.

"You can come in, had Ralof elaborated you'd know I've already invited you into my home." Gurder's voice was as warm as it was when I'd first heard her speak, and she even came back toward me gesturing for me to come in.

I bow low to her again, fisting my hand over my heart and bowing my head. I hear her chuckle and I look at her letting my confusion shine in my fire yellow eyes. She smiles and closes the door as I walk in; I sit next to Ralof who passes me some parchment and a stick of charcoal. I write down my question: 'What amuses you so?'

"You're being overly formal, I find it funny. I run a Mill not all Whiterun." Gurder replies the smile still in her voice, I blush bright red and fidget, Ralof is trying not to fall over laughing at the sight of my pink tinged face. I glance at him, hook my foot around his ankle and tug, and he tumbles off the bench we'd been sitting on. He sputters at me and has a mock hurt look on his face. I want to laugh so much, but I can't so I smile instead, my eyes shining with unvoiced mirth.

"I guess I deserved that, but really?" Ralof asks from the floor laughing, I just smile more, my only thoughts being, _'Ha, Little smart ass!' _I blink up at Gurder's husband as he coughs as if to get the groups attention. He looks a tad bit annoyed as he turns away gesturing toward his wife. I mentally wince, knowing the man does not like me, and then I see the ever present smile on Gurder's face.

"Since my brother on the floor is still proving good for nothing, what's your name?" She asked humor pouring off her; I stifle a chuckle, luckily no one catching the strangled noise. I look down as I quickly write out the single word: 'Ashma.' Ralof looked at the name and cocked his head.

"Ashmaw?" He looks confused while trying to pronounce it, I nearly fall over I'm covering my mouth to keep quite. I blink as I get myself under control and look at him with a smile, shaking my head. His lips are twitching in a combination of a smile and a cringe of embarrassment. I write on the parchment: 'Close but no gold. It's pronounced like this; Ash-ma.'

"Alright then Ashma, I'd like to offer you two to stay here, there are two old beds in the cellar, Ralof knows how to get there. But first let's all get some supper, I'll make some venison stew." She was about to turn when my old instincts kicked in hard, I gestured to the paper quickly scrawling: 'You've already done a great deal of things for us. Let me cook for you as at least a small way of thanks.'

Gurder seemed surprised but she nodded, I smiled, I'd always loved cooking. The reasons may not be the best but it was still better than doing nothing. I stand and I feel a hand grab my arm, I freeze up as if I'd been hit with too many ice spikes.

"Hey, I forgot, what happened earlier, with the wolves?" Ralof asks I relax trying not to shake, I swallow hard and grab the parchment and charcoal quickly scribbling down: 'I spent too much magic in one go; it can cause serious problems for a mage. Luckily I stopped before the symptoms got worse. Thank you by the way, if you hadn't done anything I probably would have been in a grave situation.' Ralof looks at me worry shining in his silver blue eyes that reminded me of the night sky before it is truly dawn but it isn't quite night either, twilight.

"So what would have happened if you hadn't stopped?" Ralof asks quietly, I feel the silent worry rolling off him and look away writing a quick note on the parchment handing it to him then moving to get to cooking. It was less stressful than what I was currently talking about. 'I would have died.' The notes words echo in my mind as I go about cooking.

Ralof looks like he wants to ask more but Gurder catches my sad look and changes the subject and changes Ralof's focus to catching up with her. I nod to her and go back to cooking after she nods back. I feel eyes on my back but dismiss it as Gurder's husband.

I refuse to realize it's really Ralof looking at me, worry shining in his eyes. Like blazing silver swords his gaze digs into my back as if that would reveal what troubled me on the inside. I finish the stew and gesture over Gurder to help me serve it, setting up four places I go to move away toward the door when Ralof voices his concern.

"Ashma? Where are you going?" He asks curiously, I write before I think and quickly scribble out the answer, I write a new response a wince in my features as anger flashes in Ralofs eyes and surprise then disgust flash across Gurder's and her husband's faces.

"Who and where, and I swear they'll die by my axe." Ralof hisses, his eyes going from glittering jewels of worry to daggers of rage. I flinch and shake my head rapidly, my eyes shut tightly. _'I can't tell anyone that, no one else needs to die in my place, oh dear Arkay it's my fault!' _I wail in my mind. Ralof gets up and grabs my upper arms holding me in place, he looks at me in the eyes, he looks daunting and as powerful as the Deadra for a split moment then he softens noticing my fear and panic.

"Ashma, slavery has been outlawed for centuries. You can tell me." Ralof's voice was soft and kind, but then the flashes and the tears began to fill my eyes, I shook my head, the screams echoing through my mind. I hold up the parchment and he lets me go to let me write his whole demeanor showing concern.

I'm rubbing at my eyes keeping the sobs silent as I quickly write a reply to him. I swallow and hand him the parchment, walking out the door and walking across the bridge to hide under the tree I'd fallen asleep against. It's dark and no one's around so I start to cry, no longer stifling my sobs or rubbing at the tears, I just curl up and let the tears go.

'I am hardly seventeen, Ralof, it'll be seventeen yeas in about two months. I have seen people die in my place. I do not want to hear any more screams. I do not want any more blood on my hands. I do not want to see any one else hurt because of me again because of this I cannot tell you who he was. Not because I do not trust you, but because I do not want you or any one else dead. I would rather die now; on my seventeenth anniversary of life than see that bastard hurt any more innocents.'

The small explanation runs through my head over and over, screams echoing loader in my head and the copper scent rising around me like a sickening cloak. I have my knees pulled up and my arms wrapped around them, my head pressing into my legs. I'm rocking back and forth shaking like a leaf caught in an autumn breeze. It was true; I would rather kill myself than hear one more scream, or see one more pool of blood.

"You're not mute are you? You can tell us the truth we won't hurt you, and we won't let him get you." Ralof's words jolted me and I jumped to my feet whipping around to the side my eyes blown wide. I blink a few times as I see Gurder, her husband that gazed at me with pity, then I looked at Ralof, who's twilight colored eyes shined with worry, concern and a silent seething rage. I shake my head I look down, and decide to trust him, to trust one more time.

"I can speak." I glance up and sure enough, my voice shocks them into silence. Even if it's slightly hoarse from lack of use my voice is mystically beautiful, and if used correctly haunting and threatening all in one. That's when Gurder's husband jumps forward I wince knowing what is to come next.

"Vampire, stay back!" He hisses, drawing out an axe, I let my face become stone cold and I glare at him my lips parting to expose a fang in a sneer. I get ready to reply when Ralof stands between us and I stop, shock filling my whole body.

"No, if he were he'd have died already, he's walked through sunlight with out burning at all, and his eyes don't shine red even when he's angry." Ralof stated calmly, his axe seethed. I get worried and look between him and Gurder's husband; if he was attacked it would be bad. Gurder is glaring at her husband, and Ralof is staring with a stone cold mask.

"Even so why does he have fangs?" The man asks his axe still out. I shake my head and glare.

"I have no idea why, all I know is my Maser did it to me when I was young, but I assure you I am no Vampire. Not once have I ever thirsted for blood, nor have I ever been able to control someone's mind." I state leaning around the blond Nord that stood between me and the axe.

"Well that's obvious, I believe you, and my brother, Hod put that away and quit being an idiot." Gurder snaps as she moves around him to me and to my surprise wrapping me in a hug. I tense and freeze up unsure of how to respond. She pulls away her hands resting on my shoulders, she looks like she wants to cry but her face is set and strong, a true Nord. I blink like a startled owl a few times, having no clue how to respond.

"You'll always be welcome here, run away slave or no. You saved my brother, and that's all I care about." Gurder smiles at me then turns to Ralof smiling, she hugs him as well and I watch him hug her back with no hesitation. I feel my chest ache and know my social behavior is far below par.

"Let's go back to the house finish our supper then get some sleep." Gurder states, she walks over to me resting a hand on my shoulder she walks by me as we go back to her home, Hod had slunk off already shooting untrusting glances at me as he entered his home. Gurder guided me to sit next to Ralof since she caught on I was most comfortable next to him if no one else.

We shared a pleasant meal, I found myself relaxing the tense posture I normally took up and felt surprised, Ralof seemed a tad bit happy about that and Gurder's ever present smile grew a little bit more. Their son had gone to bed before we'd arrived but he woke up and immediately jumped up and started bombarding Ralof with questions. Well until his mother got up got him a bowl and then forced him to sit and eat.

Every once in a while I'd see Gurder get up to take care of something and repress my urge to do it myself for her. Ralof patted my shoulder when I'd tensed again restraining the urge to go tend the hearth in Gurder's stead. Ralof was looking at me worriedly, but I gave him a weak smile in response.

"There's something wrong, otherwise you wouldn't be tense every five minuets." I looked at the now clean space in front of me and sighed. I decide I might as well; this man had saved my life as well as me saving his there was a bond there.

"I keep tensing because it was my duty to do most of the menial tasks; I am trying not to do what I was raised to do." I state twitching when he looks at me more anger flashing in his eyes. I repress the flinch that I want so badly to do but I rein in my annoying instincts.

"You flinched." Gurder states eyeing me from the hearth, I sigh and nod trying to avoid the flashing anger in Ralof's eyes. I stand and bow, looking at Ralof wearily. I look back at Gurder.

"You have been a gracious host, Gurder. May I ask if there is something I can do for you in return for such kindness?" I keep my voice low as both Gurder's son and husband had already turned in for the night. I get nervous as Gurder places her hands on her hips giving me a stern look.

"Ashma first, a friend is a friend and that being the case you don't need to continue thanking me. Second, you really are being incredibly formal; you only need bow to someone if they are a Jarl, a Thane, or the High King or Queen." She looks me in the eyes and I shift my weight from foot to foot nodding my head resisting saying the automatic phrase that pops into my head.

"Alright, but I have not been in Skyrim long so what pray tell is a Jarl, or Thane?" I blush badly looking toward the floor. Ralof chuckles he's standing up next to me now, he stretches and nods to Gurder.

"Night, Sister. Come on Ashma, I'll explain when we're in the cellar. It's time to turn in." Ralof yawns and heads to a slightly covered corner, moving a barrel slightly to the left he reveals a trap door down to the houses cellar.

"Ashma, if you head to Whiterun tomorrow could you speak to the Jarl about the dragon at Helgen? I would appreciate it because if that thing comes here." Gurder shuddered as the thought of a dragon swopping down on the small village filled everyone's mind. I even shudder.

"It would be my honor, truly I would rather avoid the bloodshed that beast would cause." I reply, she nods and again murmurs Good Night before turning in herself. _'Only one small problem, I still don't know where Whiterun even is on a map, or what the fuck a Jarl is.' _I think cynically as I turn to Ralof who gestures down to the ladder leading down to the houses cellar.

I jump off the ladder, it's more of an extra room than a cellar, but it was well kept like the rest of the home. I love it immediately, it's underground, safe. I felt a pang as I get the vague memory of sleeping in a room in my family's cellar when I was very young. I steer my thoughts away from that, my memory may be long but some things are better left forgotten.

"So, you really don't know much about things out side of…." I hear Ralof cough uncomfortably as if not wanting to say the word. I clench my jaw, wanting to hit him. _'Say it fool! Not saying the word won't make it go away! Calm down, dear Arkay I know he just does not want to offend.' _I take a deep breath and open my closed eyes turning to Ralof who seemed like a virgin discussing sex with his friends. I raise an eyebrow at him my lips twitching at the vary thought.

"Slavery, no use in hiding from it, it exists weather we wish it to or not. No I do not. A Slaves value is determined by how much skill they posses. A slave is a servant, therefore we do not need that skill, the only reason I know to read and write is because my Master wished it. If I knew much on politics I would have known how wrong slavery was, not that I did not, but such were the ways of the Master." I hiss the word Master like a curse and Ralof seems surprised by my dark demeanor, I sigh and let the hostility leave me. I take a deep breath and look at him waiting. He shakes his head, he looks angry but confused.

"That's just wrong! What would it matter if you knew of governments or not?" Ralof just seemed so confused. I smiled knowing how he felt. I sigh and sit in a chair that sits next to another, and when Ralof sits I let my head droop down to hide my face behind a curtain of black. I take another deep breath.

"Some slaves are born into service, so they know no other life, they think it is natural." I clench my jaw remembering all of the words whispered about me behind my back by the others. Even when I was the one to stand up and take the beatings so others would not have to. '_I willingly offered myself for punishment in the place of the children and others, but did they care? No.'_ I shake my head _'No, the children loved me, and he cared, he cared enough to help get me out of that hell hole.' _I open my eyes and jerk as the unpleasant sounds from my last night as a slave echoing in my head.

"Are you alright?" Ralof asks standing in front of me trying to get me to look up at him; I don't want him to see my tears. He'd think me weak. I get up and walk to the bed closest to the cellar ladder, keeping my head low. I sit heavily on the bed, pulling up my bear fur; I wrap myself in it pushing the wolf pelts over to the other bed for Ralof's use. I could fit under the bear fur.

"I'm fine; some things are just better left forgotten." I whisper my eyes still threatening to pour down tears. I shake my head and rub at my eyes, looking up when I deem myself under control. Ralof takes one look at me and sits next to me pulling me into a hug. At first I'm to shocked and freeze up, but then I just let Ralof do what he wants. I just try to relax and try not to act like an idiot.

"You really haven't had a lot of social contact have you?" Ralof asks after a few minutes of me finally relaxing into the hug. I shake my head, and try to repress a yawn. I hear Ralof chuckle, but I also feel the rumble run through him.

"Well, I guess it's time for us to turn in, eh? I'll explain about Jarls and such tomorrow, aye?" Ralof asks looking down at me with worry still lingering in those silver blue depths of his. I nod blinking to stay awake just a little longer.

"Aye." I mimic his words a smile in my eyes as well as on my lips. He grins back at me stretches and then lets out a yawn that could have shook the mountains. He slips over to the other bed and moves about the furs before settling down. I listen as his breath evens, after a short time I uncurl and stretch as well before positioning the pelts already on the bed and slipping into dreams.

A/N: I fear if I don't cut off now I'll continue going and going like the damn energizer bunny…. Good night to you all and I hope you review! I hope you enjoyed, and even if you didn't might as well tell me because there's nothing I can do about it.


	2. Fight or Flight?

A/N: I know I have plenty of other stories and don't need to be posting this one, but I just can't resist! Blame the plot bunnies! Oh Kay now that that's settled, on with the story!

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Warnings: Slight swearing (okay major swearing) and a lot of violence. And misspelt names. I don't have a list of names yet, forgive me.

Note: _'thought' _"Talking out load" 'Ashma's note talking style.'

Title: Black Scales On Gold Skin

Chapter Two: Fight or Flight?

(Road to Whiterun)

After Ralof had explained the Nord Government Ashma had thanked him and his family one last time, had a small bowl of vegetable stew at Gurder's insistence, then headed out. Ashma thought through the Government, trying to get familiar with the system.

A Jarl resided in the Capital of a Hold and ruled that specific Hold. A Thane was a respected person of high standing within a Hold, they were a part of a Jarl's court. The High King or Queen is the ruler of all Skyrim, and in a way the Jarl of Solitude and the rest of Haafingar, Skyrim's capital City and Hold.

Ashma shakes his head in wonder that he hadn't gotten it muddled, it was slightly strange. Although, the Empire's system was very similar, the names were different, and Thanes were a strange concept. In Cyrodiil there were not such people, nor were there Housecarls for that matter. Hired guard dogs yes, a sword sworn to your name? Not unless you were lucky.

It was surprising how quickly time seemed to have flown by, for it seemed like barely an hour had gone before the great walls of Whiterun were looming in the distance. Ashma pulled the hood of the deep grey cloak lower, the shadow covering his face. Gurder had assured him that the hood and cloak would earn suspicion, but it would also not be questioned. After all Skyrim was a cold mistress, especially if you were not a native Nord. Hopefully everyone would assume he was just trying to stay warm.

"Holy fuck…" Ashma muttered, wide eyes staring at the large grey walls in wonder, seeing the keep at the top, like a giant leering down the hill at him. He was so mystified by the large, daunting city that he didn't notice the convoy of three High Elves walking up behind him.

"Out of the way, commoner, you're impeding important businesses." Ashma jumped and whipped around, his hand resting on the axe he'd been officially given by Ralof. He tensed seeing the elven armor, and bowed. Forgetting to leave his instinct and just move aside.

"Forgive me; I did not see you come up from behind me." Ashma has his head bowed low, as to keep his face hidden. The High Elf smiles hearing Ashma's voice, he can tell Ashma is a High Elf, and by the sound of his voice a young man.

"One with True Voice and he's outside Summerset Isles, strange. Why hide under a cloak, surely you have as lovely a face as your voice." The other Elf purrs, a hand darting out to pull back the grey cloak from Ashma's face. Ashma tenses, his eyes becoming wide in fear this time. The other Elf chuckles as one of his male companions wolf whistled at Ashma upon seeing his fair face, framed by the tattoos and his almost luminous flame yellow eyes. Ashma backs away bowing his head again as his hand quickly goes to pull up his hood down his breath coming quickly, and whole form beginning to shake. Ashma knew what was in the minds of these men, and he wanted to get the hell away from them.

"I-I must go, I'm on an important errand for a dear friend." He stammers turning and hurrying down the path away from the men. Unfortunately he turned and went down a path away from the roads into the rocky out crops by the city walls, out of view of the main road. Poor naive young elf Ashma was. He heard the three men peruse him, and he went deeper into the maze of rocks, his body was beginning to shake even more he stumbled and tripped his hands shooting out to hinder his fall, only to skid across the sharp edge of a rock.

"Fuck!" Ashma gasps in pain, giving away his location; he quickly scrambled to sit up and press himself into a crack in the rock, holding his hand to his chest. His hair was slightly messy and his face was blotched as if he'd been crying, but it was mostly out of fear and past memories, than the few tears he'd cried.

"Ah, here he is." It was one of the other two, but Ashma still tried to squirm further into the crevice, which earned a low chuckle from outside his hidey hole. Ashma began to whimper, he was truly scared of the prospect of being cornered by the three Thalmor.

"Oh, don't be scared, we wouldn't hurt a pretty little thing like you, especially with such a lovely voice." The third coos to him, Ashma hears the low tenor that sounds so alluring. Again he proves how naïve he can be. Slowly Ashma squirms out keeping his head bowed just enough to obscurer his mouth.

"You would not harm me?" He murmurs, sounding much, much younger, as he eyes the elf that had spoken with disbelief and fear. Fear was rather evident in the young Elf. The other smiles his pale purple eyes flashing strangely as he moves closer to the younger.

"Let me heal that for you, little one." Ashma didn't know what to do when the other gently took his hand and ran a finger along the gash, softly reciting a healing incantation. The gash healed, but it was too deep to go away instantly with the spell that had been cast on it, a small jagged line ran along Ashma's palm. The other Elf smiles seeing Ashma's confusion and slight panic reflect from the bright young eyes.

"Ah, a shy little thing aren't you? Come now tell me your name." The Elf wasn't doing anything to threaten Ashma, although he still held his now healed hand in a gentle but firm grip. Ashma blinked as if confused by the question but the quickly bowed when his hand was released.

"A-ashma." The stutter earned two chuckles, the elf before him nodded, and Ashma swore he saw a familiar look flash in his eyes. Then the Elf bowed back to him, and startles Ashma as well as the two other Elves.

"Ah, I know your name young one. Do you remember mine?" He stood back up and pulled off his helm, shaking his head to get his long white-silver hair out of his helmet and eyes. Ashma gasped in recognition.

"Uncle Belladonna!" Ashma was too shocked to remember to bow his head and sure enough three echoing gasps resounded. Ashma took a step back, a pain flashing in his bright eyes. The two that had chased him in earnest drew their blades. Belladonna just collapsed to his knees a look of disbelief, grief and horrified shock twisting his face into a pained expression.

Without thinking Ashma called his flames to him, the fire within welling up like a broken dam. He held his hands at either side stepping around his collapsed Uncle to face the two advancing Thalmor. He brought up his hands the dancing flames radiating magic, he stood his ground with a look that obviously translated to; You really want to try me?

They charged and he raised his hands flames lashing out from his raised palms wrapping the two war dogs in fiery cloaks. A blur shot out from behind him, and two daggers came out and ran across the flaming soldier's throats. Ashma blinked in shock as the flames smoldered out when the two High Elves collapsed to the ground dead.

"So, what happened when you disappeared all those years ago?" Belladonna asks keeping his back to his nephew. Ashma shook his head in confusion.

"I didn't disappear. Father sold me into the slave trade when I told him I wanted nothing to do with the Dominion. And told him I'd rather bend over and take it from my Uncle rather than marry that she-devil he had contracted me off to." Ashma's lips twitched up in a smile laughing nervously as he remembered his father's reaction. It had been so hilarious; it was humiliating for his father, Ashma had been sure to say it right in front of several important generals. He never regretted it. At times he questioned it, but not once did that memory fail to amuse him.

"You said what!?" His Uncle gasped in shock, whirling around his jaw hanging open, his purple eyes blown wide in open shock mixed with amusement. He suddenly began laughing, he moved forward and hugged his nephew close, tears of happiness and relief pouring from him. Ashma froze and tensed, he didn't remember how to respond. He stood and blinked in shock slowly relaxing and letting his Uncle hug him.

"My son for that is what we both know you are, I have a great deal to tell you. I'd first prefer to at least know this, Has anyone touched you?" Belladonna's eyes had gone from warm to deathly cold in an instant but the question caught Ashma right in the gut. Grimacing he looked away giving a sharp nod. He couldn't meet his Uncle's eyes, disgust was all he expected.

"Those bastards! I'll kill every last Thalmor dog I see till the day I die! My poor boy!" Belladonna wailed as he hugged Ashma close again, crushing the air from him with a bear hug. Ashma was too shocked to even try to respond he just let his Uncle, the closest thing to a father he had, cling to him.

"U-Uncle… could, could you please…" Ashma stuttered and faded off still stunned. Belladonna slowly loosed his grip and pulled away, keeping his hand's on Ashma's shoulders. Ashma saw his Uncle's eye widen, then he fixed Ashma with a piercing stare.

"There are two Nords coming up, let me do the talking." Belladonna whispered pulling Ashma behind him as indeed to Nords ran up, looking at the burnt bodies skeptically, both had their swords drawn. Ashma peeked around his Uncle's shoulder like a frightened child, expecting a fight at any moment.

"Why approach weapon drawn when you have no idea if those you approach are friend or foe?" Belladonna asked easily, hands resting on his twin dagger's hilts. His eyes were guarded and a silent warning shone in them. Ashma was looking at the armor and suddenly recognized them; they were the two soldiers that he and Ralof had met at Helgen. He jerked on his Uncles shoulder shaking his head wildly.

"Ah great it's 'em again." The male grumbled sneering at Ashma. Ashma glared, and stepped around his Uncle, no longer acting like a scared boy. He rested his hand on the axe, the cloak swept aside to reveal the action.

"You killed these Thalmor? Why are you talking to one?" The female asked here sword lowered for the time as she eyes Belladonna skeptically. Belladonna rolled his eyes, looking at the Nords with a look that screamed annoyance. Ashma took a deep breath; he nodded to her and then gestured to his Uncle, who stepped forward bowed and then straightened up.

"I'm his Uncle. I'm also more a spy than a Thalmor agent. I'd like to join Ulfric so I can supply him with information that would cause the Dominion great harm." Belladonna states eyeing the Nords with as much skepticism as they eyed him with, he didn't trust their blades to stay down. His hands came up as his arms crossed over his chest in a clear I don't like this manner. The male raised his sword, not at all taking head any of the words spoken.

"You admit your Thalmor filth!" He moved to take a step but Ashma moved quickly, he grabbed his Uncle's dagger from its seethe, and held it to the man's throat, halting his advance. He glared at him and then looked at the female pleadingly, wanting this whole affair to pass with no blood shed.

"Both me and my Nephew would prefer this event pass in peace. Please put down your weapon, and I'm sure he will as well, right Ashma?" Belladonna looked at his Nephew as the younger Elf gave a sharp nod. The man lowered his sword and took a step back when Ashma lowered the dagger and backed up to stand next to his Uncle.

"See? Now that everyone is in understanding we can speak freely. Ashma was confronted by the two others in my troop and he fled from them. Something told me I should follow and see who they were pursuing. They had him trapped in the rock crevice I coaxed him out and low and behold it was my long lost Nephew. I know it was the Thalmor that took his voice; I've always wanted to find a way to fuck them over this just gave me more reason to do so. "Belladonna gave a quick explanation, almost sighing in relief as the female nodded, and seemed to accept his report.

"If you are true in your intent then go to Windhelm. Ulfric needs all the support he can get." She turned and went down the road, the male stood in shock gaping after his comrade sputtering in disbelief. He glared at them before storming off after his female companion.

"This aint over Elf!" He spits at Ashma as he passes, his expression showing his seething rage. Ashma let out a breath he'd been holding in as the soldier passed out of ear shot. He turned around and nodded at his Uncle a small grin on his lips.

"Well that could have gone a little smother." Ashma chuckled, leaning against a nearby boulder. His Uncle let out his own breath chuckling with his nephew. Finally they both caught their breath and sobered up.

"What's your next move?" Belladonna asks Ashma, pushing away from his rock and standing between the dead bodies.

"Well, as much as I hate it, scavenging those dead bodies since the armor is in almost perfect condition then go into the city sell it and tell the Jarl of the dragon attack on Helgen." Ashma looked slightly sick as the stench finally hit him hard.

He swallowed taking a deep breath he quickly stripped the burnt corpses of their armor and weapons that had been dropped and had escaped the blaze. He strapped the two swords to his waist and bundled up the armor using the blue sash from the Stormcloak armor Ralof had also given him officially. Holding the bundle to his side he eyes his Uncle.

"You shouldn't go around in that armor it practically screams 'I'm a Thalmor, kill me now,' I think I have an extra bundle of cloths Gurder gave me, they might fit you." Ashma states looking at his Uncle trying to judge how well the cloths would fit him. Belladonna scoffed and disappeared behind a rock out cropping; when he came back he was dressed in a dark blue outfit, it looked finer than most of the things Ashma had seen worn by the people of Skyrm so far. Belladonna pulled out dark leather gloves and pulled on some dark leather traveling boots.

"Well here, I have enough money to buy other armor, one perk of having a good family name in the Thalmor, you get to keep your own money." Belladonna sighed and stretched trying to loosen his sour and aching muscles from the ceaseless march to Whiterun from Solitude. He handed Ashma the armor and stretched again.

"Since you are going to sell the armor how about you improve it first? I can buy the moonstone ingots and improve them if you'd like." Ashma's eyes lit up at talk of a forge, he was good with a hammer, a pretty decent smith, and had loved the work.

"I can improve them, I'm used to Blacksmithing." Ashma's eager and for once really excited voice caught Belladonna off guard and for a moment he stared. Then a smile lit him up, he nodded letting his Nephew do it, knowing if he was at least happy, then he'd be fine.

They walked into town stopping by the forge Belladonna bought the required moonstone ingots and handed them to Ashma, who then asked if he could work with the forge. The woman working agreed readily when Ashma offered to help, using I'm mute note exchange method, around the forge in return. After he'd improved and repaired the Elven armor and swords he helped the woman about the forge.

When he finished he wrapped up his armor and swords and quickly went inside and traded in the armor and two Elven blades, getting a good bit of gold too. He nodded his thanks and exited the shop, heading to the Keep that still reminded him of a looming giant.

"What are you doing here? The Jarl is not to be disturbed!" A dark Elf hisses as Ashma comes up toward the Jarl, he was currently behind the fire. He stopped and raised his hands palm out in a sing of peace, which the she Elf didn't seem to read, in a desperate gamble touched his throat shook his head and motioned to the small bag at his waist and made it look like he wrote a quick note in the air. The she Elf's dark eyes narrowed but she backed off a little bit as Ashma quickly go out his parchment and a piece of coal and wrote: ' I have information on the Dragon attack on Helgen, I'd like to inform your Jarl of the situation.

"Well, he will want to speak with you…. But no sudden movement's I'm the Jarl's Housecarl and I will strike you down." She hissed while escorting him to the steps that lead to the Jarl. He let out a soft sigh, knowing she didn't hear him, he stood at the edge of the steps and bowed, wrists crossed over his chest to the Jarl, a sing of respect. The Jarl seemed surprised he looked over to his Housecarl, as if expecting an answer.

"He's mute but says, through note, that he has information on Helgen." She replied as Ashma glances between the Jarl and his Housecarl. Would his scheme work?

"Well lad, what news do you bring?" He leaned forward as Ashma pulled out a clean piece of parchment quickly writing in his flowing script before handing it to the Jarl. It read out; 'My Jarl, I'm displeased to inform you that the Dragon that was attacking Helgen flew over the Bleakfall Barrows when last seen. Riverwood is in the most direct danger and in need of help in case the dragon decides to attack.'

"This is foolish; the Jarl of Falkreath will think we've joined Ulfric and are preparing to attack him." The Steward hissed loudly, Ashma bristled, glaring at the man, he may have a claymore, but he was obviously a coward. If protecting your people meant a misunderstanding it was worth it, to suggest otherwise was cowardly and just plain wrong, people's lives were in danger!

"I will not stand ideally by while my people burn! Iralith send a detachment to Riverwood at once. And you, you've done a great service for Whiterun, and I thank you, have this weapon from my personal Armory." The Jarl stood and beckoned to a random guard who ran off and quickly came back, with a lousy Iron sword. Ashma tried to keep a calm look on his face. He read the approval in the guard's decision in the Jarl's eyes, and resisted sneering.

"Well, you're a magic user I suspect, but at least it will give you a back up plan." The Jarl stated hand the much younger Elf the Iron blade. Ashma swallowed his stung pride and bowed, wanting to strike at the Jarl instead.

"I know you have already done this hold a great service, but there is something else you could do for Whiterun." The Jarls offer annoyed Ashma and he did not want to come across as rude, but before he could answer he motioned for Ashma to follow and walked over to a side room that was apparently a workspace for the Court Wizard. Ashma was slightly confused about this, Gurder and Ralof hadn't explained the Court Wizards or that there were any.

"Farengar, I have someone who can help you with your work." The Jarl states, the mage leaning over a map looks up at the Jarl nodding before looking at Ashma with a critical eye. Ashma glances at the Jarl taking note he'd 'forgotten' to mention he was mute.

"Alright I'll fill them in on the necessary details." Farengar stated shrugging in a casual way. Ashma was slightly shocked the man was acting so… indifferent, and to his own Jarl at that. The Jarl blatantly sating how important the research was now that dragons were popping up everywhere, and then left, going back to lounge about on his throne. Ashma felt that if all Jarls were like Balgruf then they were lazy and not at all as wise as their positions demanded. Then Ulfric came to mind.

"I'll get straight to the point. I need you to fetch something for me. Well when I say fetch I really mean delve into a dangerous ruin for a stone tablet that may or may not actually be there." The Wizard was now looking at me expectantly; I held in a sigh and quickly wrote down my response. 'As your Jarl failed to mention, I'm mute. However, what does a stone tablet have to do with the rising of the dragons?'

"Ah, not just a Hire Sword but a thinker, perhaps even a scholar? Well, it's a dragon stone, a map. More precisely a map to ancient Dragon burial sites, my sources tells me it can be found in Bleakfalls Barrow…" Ashma mentally sighed as he listened, he occasionally asking questions, in note form, but not getting anywhere. The mage wasn't revealing his source, and he didn't have as much information as Ashma really wanted. He was walking into a dark place with only the faintest Mage Light glimmer.

"Well you have your information." With that the Mage turned, rudely dismissing Ashma, who flipped the Mage a rude gesture and quickly walked away almost scowling at the guard by the door that snickered at the pathetic iron sword strapped to his side. He glared instead, stopping and giving the guard a look that could have killed him had Ashma been a roc of legend. The guard actually backed away, which only caused Ashma to get a pleased smile that seemed to unsettle the poor guard further.

He walked out of the Keep and down the winding stairs looking up in astonishment at the beautiful blue aurora that writhed in the night sky like coils of aqua blue snakes. He was too distracted to see a man getting closer to him, toying with a shimmering dagger. All off a sudden Ashma was face down in the dirt a large Nord man hovering over him.

"Shoot 'em, Aela!" The man bellowed, Ashma's eyes followed an arrow that whizzed above them, and then heard a sickening thud. He froze, and for a moment felt a deep numbness in his stomach. Slowly turning his head to look behind him, Ashma's eyes settled on a dead man, a dagger in his hand, but it was no High Elf, by the looks a Redguard. A sick dread settled in him as he realized a tattoo on the man's hand marked him a bounty hunter, specifically, a slave hunter.

"You should pay more attention, normally your kind have better instincts than that." A woman came up, a bow in her hand and an almost disgusted look on her face. Ashma stood brushing some dirt off his face with one hand and pulling out his folded parchment and charcoal with the other. She raised a brow, and he tapped his throat shaking his head quickly writing: 'I'm mute, so forgive my late Thank You. Yes, I may be a High Elf, but I'm not used to being here and certain things still intrigue me, like the aurora above us, I was too absorbed in seeing that natural magic to hear a slave hunter behind me. So forgive my inattention on my own curiosity, but don't mistake it for stupidity. And I've dealt with them so many times I no longer care to much if they capture me, I'll always find a way to run free.'

"Well mute or not you can get yourself killed doing a stunt like that." Aela states with a shrug, Ashma clenches his jaw resisting the urge to hit the woman, or fry her. The man looks at the tattoo then Aela, and looking over Ashma slight reproach in his eyes.

"Aela, this tattoo on the bandits arm marks him as a bounty hunter…." The man trails off looking at Ashma and keeping himself in a slightly defensive position. Aela glances at the hand nodding.

"Yeah, a bounty hunter of sorts…. It looks strange though. Maybe we should bring this Elf and the dead man to Kodlak, see what he thinks." The woman draws an arrow from her quiver and points it straight at Ashma. Ashma glares pulling himself up to his full height, in defiance. Then Belladonna appears behind Aela, arms crossed in a relaxed demeanor, but his eyes are stone cold.

"My son is no threat to anyone, in fact I can tell you that is a Slave Hunter's mark, as he's probably already stated. If you'd like to take him anywhere I'd ask it not be under threat, and that I'd go with him, as a translator." Belladonna didn't pose in a defensive or offensive manner, but just looking at the tall elf with nightshade purple eyes and white hair, made you think twice about attacking him, or telling him to shove off. Aela looked his Uncle over; Ashma didn't realize how threatening Belladonna could be if his threat, however subtle was directed at you.

"Alright, You'll follow me Vilkas get the bounty hunter. We'll go see what Kodlak has to say." Aelae turned tossing the orders over her shoulder as she headed around the seemingly dead tree, to walk up a flight of stairs toward a large building that reminded Ashma of an overturned boat. He glances at his Uncle fear prickling in the base of his stomach, but his Uncle held a relaxed posture, Ashma couldn't be sure since he couldn't look directly into the man's eyes if he was truly casual or was hiding fear.

They entered the building and went down a flight of stairs at the far right then they walked down a hall to the far end. There was a lone door, which was slightly ajar, reveling part of what looked like a study. Ashma didn't know exactly what it was but a strange scent permeated the area, it was a woody musk that reminded Ashma of forest and the wild, of wolves and freedom. He glanced at his Uncle a slow fear crept into his gut, beyond the doors was something dangerous and powerful, hell he could sense the power, ancient and deadly lurking all around them.

"Kodlak?" The Nord who had tackled him called not opening the study; a rustle comes from the room before a man opens the door. Ashma could smell the strange musk lingering around the man, but it was a faint whisper compared to standing next to Aela and Vilkas.

"Ah, Visitors... Come in." The almost happy greeting faded as his eyes locked on the dead body and its tattoo. He moved out of the door opening it wide, Aela entered, then Belladonna with Ashma on his heel, and Vilkas last with the dead body.

"Put the body there." Kodlak gestured toward the center of the room, and took a seat in the corner, staring at the tattoo. Belladonna seemed unfazed, but Ashma was growing even tenser as time passed, he felt like a drawn bowstring. He also felt sick, the magic he could feel the strength of it he could feel, and it was beginning to make him sick. Ashma swayed for a moment, his vision blurring, his hand shot out and grabbed onto Belladonna as his eyes snapped closed.

"Your friend seems a bit… tipsy?" Kodlak noted, truly not sure there was no scent of beer or ale, but the swaying had seemed drunk. Belladonna placed a hand over Ashma's and felt the warmth, his eyes snapped over to Ashma worry shining from the purple orbs.

"In a way he is drunk, but it has more to do with the magic here. This place is filled with an old magic, and he can feel it." He looked over at Ashma a frown forming in his brow, "It shouldn't affect him this badly. Something must have happened that we haven't talked about yet. He just escaped out of slavery, and just recently found me. Can we move somewhere else? He might suffer badly if we don't and I'd rather not lose my Nephew the day I got him back." Belladonna's voice was reasoning, but his expression was of barley concealed panic, and fear.

"Come we'll move this to training yard." Kodlak states, deciding that the elf's fear was genuine enough that they'd do as he asked, they moved out of the room up the stairs and out into the yard. Ashma clung to his Uncle, needing him to guide him, because he wasn't opening his eyes with his head spinning like this. Ashma began breathing steady, and his head stopped spinning, but the tingle that ran over him was still there, there wasn't as much magic here, he could handle it.

Opening his eyes Ashma looked at Kodlak and bowed his head in thanks. Belladonna hovered at his side as if nervous of something happening. Ashma took slow breaths that allowed him to get back to being magically stable. It was only after Ashma released his hold on Belladonna, Kodlak began to speak. Ashma felt a shame flare in the pit of his stomach, he hated being seen as weak, and he must have seemed weak.

"Now that your Nephew is better..." Kodlaks voice carried an easy tone that had Ashma relaxing, "I'll ask why my Shield brother and Sister brought you in with a dead slaver." Kodlak's gaze locked Belladonna's and Ashma felt unease swim through him, he didn't like where this was going.

"My Nephew is an escaped slave." Belladonna replies. It's the second time people have been told that, and Ashma felt shame rise in him. He looked down unable to meet Kodlak's questioning gaze as it turns to him. Ashma just wanted that history to go away.

"You seemed shamed, is it for escaping, or being a slave?" Kodlak asks, his voice is still kind and Ashma has a hard time resisting answering. Belladonna goes to answer a slight anger in his purple eyes, but Kodlak holds up a hand cutting him off staring at Ashma who shuffles his feet feeling more inclined to answer. Of cores he felt shamed of even being a slave! Why would he feel shame in escaping such a fate? Then the images of some of the born-slaves enter his mind and he understands.

"I'm shamed at being a slave." The whisper seems to carry to Kodlak who nods; Aela and Vilkas haven't seemed to have heard him. Ashma feels lighter, the shame no longer as heavy. Vilkas brushes past going to leave but when he brushes past Ashma, heading over to Kodlak, his hand touches Ashma's ass. With a speed like a viper Ashma lashes out, slamming a fist into Vilkas's jaw, then taking a step to the side Ashma puts himself directly by his Uncle shaking as past images fly through his mind.

Aela whistles low, never seeing someone knock Vilkas on his ass with one punch. Kodlak raises a brow, the fear evident in the young Elf's eyes. Belladonna wraps Ashma in a hug, turning the younger's head to rest on his chest while his arms come up to hold him. Ashma's shaking subsides after a few moment's his hands that clung to Belladonna's shirt front then slowly release their hold. After Belladonna can't feel any hint of overpowering fear coming from his Nephew anymore he lets go and let's Ashma take a step back.

"I've never seen someone nock Vilkas flat with one punch." A new voice sates from behind them, it startles Ashma who jumps, not having heard a door open.

"Ah, Farkas, I'd like you to Meet Belladonna Nightshade, an old friend of mine, and his Nephew, what is his name?" Kodlak asks sharing a small look of understanding with Ashma, who gives a faint but grateful smile.

"I'm surprised you remember me, we should catch up soon it's been a while. This is Ashma Nightshade." Belladonna patted Ashma's shoulder, a smile appearing as Ashma looked at him in surprise, but he no longer had a surname. That meant Belladonna was naming him… his son.

The man Kodlak had called Farkas walked over to stand by the older man, being sure not to touch Ashma as he passed. Ashma blushed and looked down, not liking the idea of having lashed out like a child. Looking at Vilkas who now stood rubbing his jaw a stunned look on his face, he felt shame. Ashma took a step forward, raising a hand and let it glow with a golden light, a question in his eyes.

"He'd like to heal you, as way of apology for striking out." Belladonna stated looking at the distrust that flashed in the Nord's eyes. Kodlak silenced the retort Vilkas was about to say.

"Healing the injury you caused seems a fine apology. What say you Vilkas?" Kodlak stared Vilkas in the eyes. Reluctantly Vilkas's gaze broke from Kodlak's, looking down to the floor; the pale eyed Nord gave a sharp nod, hesitantly letting his hands drop to his sides.

Ashma inched forward, feeling like a mouse moving closer to a cat, his glowing hand came up, coming close to the other man's jaw. Seeing him tense Ashma clenched his jaw, trying to push the magic the rest of the way, it was harder when he wasn't touching the person he was healing. When he'd held the spell as long as he dared he backed away, the bruised jaw fully healed.

"Is it fully healed?" Kodlak and Belladonna ask in unison, not seeming surprised, however it seemed creepy to everyone else, including the slightly startled Ashma, who nodded. Kodlak nodded back and Belladonna seemed to beam with pride, he knew how difficult the Restoration school was to master, but his Nephew seemed to be doing fine.

Belladonna looked at Kodlak and shrugged now more wanting to catch up with his Nephew and go to bed. His long march and long day wearing him thin, he clasped Ashma on the shoulder startling the young mage, whose magic reacted and lightly zapped Belladonna.

"You brat…" Belladonna mutters rubbing his hand, Ashma looks horrified and quickly grabs his Uncle's hand healing the slight burn. Vilkas watches in slight amazement as the young elf does his magic without uttering a word. Farkas had walked away going to a dummy to train and get the whelps milling about to start to head to their beds.

"It's late we should continue this on a later date." Kodlak states rising and clasping forearms with Belladonna in a traditional greeting before leaving them. Ashma sighed feeling tired as well. He blinked slowly, not noticing Vilkas's stare as he walked away following his Uncle to the Inn.

When they got there they paid for a room and then quickly went up stairs to avoid the questioning stares they were receiving from the Nords. Once inside their bedroom they began to talk, Belladonna caught Ashma up on some of the aspects of Skyrim Gurder and Ralof had forgotten, and a bit of what happened in Summerset Isles after he'd 'disappeared.'

"Your mother and older brother were frantic and most of the other families nearby helped them search the surrounding area for three days, but with no sign of you the search tapered off after that. " Belladonna recalled a sad reflective look in his eyes. Ashma frowned, and pursed his lips, what had his uncle been doing?

"What were you doing?" Ashma asks, deciding he'd rather know than assume and begin to distrust his Uncle. Belladonna smiled for a moment before he let his shoulders sag as if a weight had been pressed upon them.

"The Thalmor decided they needed more men, so they 'recruited' a few. I was one of the lucky individuals to get forced into the army. I only found out after nearly a year had gone by, and by then it was well assumed you were dead. I noticed your father didn't react that much, and when I asked your mother I found she had a suspicion it was your father that caused your disappearance." Belladonna summed up the fact that she'd then taken his younger brother and little sister away back to her family estates, pretending his father had thrown her and two of their three remaining kids out, which wasn't much of a lie considering he blamed them for Ashma's distaste for the military, and his disrespectful behavior. The eldest had shown a keen interest in becoming a Thalmor general, which was most likely why he'd been kept.

"I can't believe he'd veer so far from tradition…" Ashma muttered then sneered hate flaring inside him, "No, I can I just wish I didn't." He balled his hands and closed his eyes, trying to cool his temper. When it came to his father Ashma had a hard time keeping calm, but Belladonna patted his knee and gestured to the bed.

"Come on, let's get some sleep, I'll stay on my side if you stay on yours." Belladonna joked Ashma smiled and nodded, setting down his bundle and pulling off the chain mail before pulling off the gloves and boots. Pulling a random wolf fur from his bundle he laid down on one side of the bed as Belladonna took one of the other furs and slid under it. Both fell into an easy sleep unaware of all the Nords below who were betting on what exactly the two elves were doing, and how many ears were carefully listening.

A/N: Might as well cut right here, it's a good stopping point, well review if you will, I'd really appreciate it, Well I love you all, good night!


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